


no, you won't drown, darling (i'll be there too)

by PleaseDontGetMeRescued



Series: i think your love would be too much [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But it's not NOT happy, F/M, I know I said this one would be happy, THEY'RE IN LOVE AND DAMAGED AND IN LOVE OKAY, and more happiness to come!, snuggling!, talking about your fears and feelings!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleaseDontGetMeRescued/pseuds/PleaseDontGetMeRescued
Summary: “Ask me to stay.”Her eyes are closed.  She can’t look at him, terrified he won’t do it.  Terrified, despite all of his pretty words, that he’ll disappear.It would seem they’re both afraid of the same thing...-Post-8x06





	no, you won't drown, darling (i'll be there too)

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. I'm sorry. This one did NOT want to be written. It was like, what I wanted to write and what needed to happen for this story and pacing to make sense did not mesh and I struggled. BUT I hope you like it??? Idk, man, just take it.  
> Ooc? Who even knows. Edited? Barely. Sorry I'm the worst.
> 
> -
> 
> Series title from sunflower by post malone
> 
> Story title from call on me by big brother and the holding company.

Her body may have healed in the months since the Dragon Queen’s death, but her mind still reals.Sleep doesn’t come easy if it comes at all.And on nights like this one, Arya knows better than to search for the blissful nothingness she hasn’t known for years. 

 

Instead, she stares at the ceiling of her temporary chambers, eyes wide and chest pounding. 

 

In the end, it had all been rather anticlimactic.

 

Her brother was named the King of Westeros; her sister the Queen in the North.Jon sentence had been finalized - the rest of his life at The Wall.

 

The world felt stifling.The too hot King’s Landing air seemed to suffocate her.Her linens were choking her.She kicked them off to the end of the bed and swung her feet to the floor. 

 

She’d seen much use in sitting still for no reason.

 

She doesn’t bother with her boots, simply slipping her breaches over her bare legs and letting her sleep shirt hang long.The castle is silent as she makes her way through the drafty halls - the whole city is. 

 

She wanders aimlessly for what seems like an eternity.The light from the full moon filters through the cracked facade of the Red Keep, burning her tired eyes. 

 

And she is tired.Seven, she’s tired.She misses Jon already.Sansa and Bran are most likely sleeping soundly in their chambers, Arya still feels so far away from them.She doesn’t know what to do with her time - with her life. 

 

_Do you want to be like me?_

 

She knows the answer.She’s repeated it to herself a million times in the weeks since she’d decided, steeled herself with the idea that she was finished being selfless.The war is over.Her list is finished.What remains of her family is as healthy and whole as they can be. 

 

For the first time in a very long time, Arya doesn’t feel the crushing weight of sand speeding through the hourglass and heavy onto her shoulders.There is nowhere to run from, nowhere to run to.She can do whatever she wants. 

 

That, she finds, is what gives her pause. 

 

She’s not sure what she wants.Only that she’s tired.Only that she needs time and now she has it.Time to heal.Time to think.For so long her life was simply about surviving.She’s not sure what comes next.She needs to figure it out.

 

She climbs numbly to the highest remaining point of the Keep.Even here, where the air is crisp and cool, a hint of the sea on the gentle wind, Arya’s lungs feel too tight, her chest too heavy.If she leans out over the ledge far enough she can just barely make out the shape the docks, where just that afternoon she’d hugged her favorite brother for what would probably be the very last time. 

 

_What’s west of Westeros?_

 

“I’m surprised to see you.”

 

Gendry’s voice is gruff and tired.It annoys her that he managed to sneak up on her -she blames it on the lack of sleep.

 

“And why’s that?” she asks, refusing to face him.She doesn’t know if she can bear it.He’s been avoiding her for days.He barely glanced her way in The Pit, not that she could blame him. 

 

While most of what keeps her up at night is the smell of corpses drenched in dragon fire, the rest of her nightmares consist of his brokenhearted eyes, baring into her soul as she told him no.

 

_That’s not me._

 

She feels stupid.

 

“Figured you’d have run off by now.”Arya pinches her eyes closed.It would be so much easier if she did.If she simply slipped away again, disappear into nothingness.“Suppose it’s just a matter of time.”

 

She doesn’t answer him.She can’t.She doesn’t want to disappoint him. 

 

“You planning on saying goodbye this time?” 

 

Honestly, she doesn’t know.Her plan is only half-formed.She has no ship, no crew.She just knows that if she stays here, in the land that wiped out half of her family, she’d suffocate to death.She doesn’t know if it’s the _right_ plan, but it’s the one she’s got.

 

“Would you want me to?”

 

“Yes.”Truly, the answer surprises her.“I’m mad at you,” he admits, voice deep. “And I’m hurt.But that doesn’t mean I never want to see you again.That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you, Arya.Or that I want you to sail off the edge of the world to your death trying to run away from your problems.”

 

Suddenly her numbness is gone.Her blood boils.She whips around to face him, the ends of her hair scratching her face.“Is that what you think I’m doing?You think I’m trying to run away?”

 

She’s so tired of running.

 

“Isn’t that what you always do?Every time something gets a little bit scary or real you take off without a word.”

 

“I’m _not_ afraid.”

 

“Maybe not of White Walkers or assassins or dragons, but you’re afraid of me.”

 

The accusation truly dumbfounds her.Afraid?Of Gendry?

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“You are.I know you, Arya.You’re afraid of-”

 

“I’m not afraid!”The words snap out of her mouth so loudly she’s sure the entire Keep has heard.She doesn’t care though.She needs him to give her this.To relent.To understand.“I’m not afraid,” she says again, teeth grinding.“I’m just trying to figure out what to do.”

 

“And you’re running away to do it.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You are.” 

 

Truly, he’s the most stubborn man in the Seven Kingdoms.She’s going to kill him.His eyes, even in the dark, are so, so blue. 

 

She relents. 

 

“So what if I am?There’s nothing for me here.Why would I stay?My family is _gone_.”

 

“Your family is here,” he urges, finally, _finally_ coming closer, pressing into her space. 

 

Arya shakes her head.“Jon is _gone_.”She can feel her voice getting more and more frantic.“Sansa is going home, Bran is staying here.The Starks are scattered.I have no family.”

 

She feels stupid even saying it, but the hysteria, the _terror_ at being alone again is clawing up her throat.

 

“Arya, that’s stupid.”

 

“It’s not stupid,” she shouts, voice cracking.“It’s-”

 

“I could be your family.”

 

She doesn’t know why the words make her freeze.They’re familiar, even if she had buried them deep within the recesses of her brain from years before. 

 

 _He doesn’t mean it_ , she thinks, pinching her eyes closed. _He can’t mean it._

 

“You don’t want to be my family.”Why would he?

 

“Don’t tell me what I want.I meant what I said, Arya.I love you.”

 

_None of it would be worth anything if you’re not with me._

 

“You don’t.”She shakes her head, hair tumbling from behind her ears and into her face. Gendry immediately reaches and tucks it back into place.

 

“I do.I love you.”He cups her face with endless gentle hands.“You’re the only family I’ve ever had.And I might be mad at you for running away, for scaring me half to death, for nearly dying.And you might have ripped my heart out of my chest because you don’t want to be with me, but _you are still my family_.It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do, you will always be my family.”

 

“You don’t want to be my family,” she says again, not sure who she’s trying to convince.

 

He’s frustrated, she can tell.She can feel it in the tension in his arms, the lines in his face.He could let his anger push through, push her away.Instead, he pulls her closer, fingers on her spine.

 

“Arya,” he says.He says her name so often.Like a prayer.Like a treasure.Like he never wants her to forget it.“If you truly believe that then you’re an idiot.”

 

His words startle a choked laugh from her throat.The rough, brittle thing immediately turns to a sob and she collapses against Gendry, pressing her face to his shoulder.

 

He wraps his strong arms around her and squeezes tight, resting his cheek upon her hair.They stay like that for minutes or hours.The sea breeze brushes against her cheek making her shiver.It smells like freedom.It smells like escape. 

 

“You should rest,” he says as if there’s nothing left to say.Nothing left to discuss.He loves her and that’s that. 

 

She remembers him months ago, sitting at her bedside and stroking her hair, wiping the blood from her face. 

 

 _Rest_.

 

“I can’t,” she admits, face still buried in his shoulder. 

 

“You need to try,” he says, pulling away from her embrace. 

 

“I can’t.I-” _don’t sleep anymor_ e, she wants to say. _I have nightmares of losing you all over again.You’re right.I’m afraid_.“Will you stay with me?”

 

Gendry falls impossibly still.“Arya, I can’t.”

 

_I’m mad at you.And I’m hurt._

 

“Please,” she urges, pulling on his hand and dragging him back through the dark corridors towards the guest chambers. 

 

“Arya-”

 

“Please,” she says again, stilling in the hall and turning to face him.Her eyes, she knows, must be impossibly wide.Impossibly desperate.“Just until I fall asleep.”

 

He hesitates, blue eyes clashing with gray.With a sigh, he nods and lets her pull him further into the castle. 

 

When they finally reach her chambers, Arya shuts the door with a barely perceptible click.The fire in the hearth is nothing but smoldering orange embers.Arya refuses to look at them.She pulls her breaches from her legs and climbs back into her now-cool sheets.Gendry takes up a spot at the chair beside her bed. 

 

Arya resumes her position on her back, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.She can feel Gendry’s eyes boring into the side of her face.She turns on her side, bunching her fists under her cheek like she used to sleep when she was a child.She stares at Gendry.Gendry stares back.

 

She thinks, for the first time in a very long time, she doesn’t have to feel alone.She doesn’t have to _be_ alone.

 

It’s with that thought in mind, and Gendry’s calm, steady gaze on her, that she falls into the darkness of sleep.

 

-

 

She’s standing on the docks of King’s Landing. 

 

_What’s west of Westeros?_

 

She knows that this is goodbye.She knows she won’t see Jon for a while, but she feels alright.The sea breeze rustles her hair gently.The sun peaks out through the soft gray clouds and warms her face.Sansa is at her side, Bran on the other. 

 

The Starks survived.

 

The North remembers.

 

“You have your Needle?”

 

She glances down to her belt, feeling the familiar, cool metal through her glove.“Right here,” she says, looking up.

 

But Jon is gone. 

 

Arya blinks, brows furrowing.“Jon?”

 

He’s nowhere to be seen. 

 

She glances left, but there is no Bran.To her right, there is no Sansa. 

 

“Sansa?” she cries, spinning frantically.“Bran!” 

 

Across the dock, there are no men loading ships.The waves crash against deserted boats.In the sky, the gulls do not call, for they are not there.There is no bustle in the city. No people on the roads. 

 

She spins wildly, looking for someone, anyone. 

 

Up above at the top of the docks is a single black horse bearing a rider.Even from here, Arya can make out the Baratheon blue of Gendry’s eyes.He stares down at her, brows furrowed.

 

“Gendry!” she cries, tripping over her cloak in an effort to reach him.He doesn’t come any closer. He shakes his head and pulls on his steed’s reins, turning him.“No!”The pair takes off in a mad gallop.“Please! Don’t leave!”

 

The toe of her boot hits against the steps in her haste and she spills to the ground with a crash.By the time she looks up Gendry is gone from the distance.

 

She’s completely alone.

 

-

 

She wakes with a gasp and Gendry is there.

 

“Hey, _shhhh_ ,” he says, pushing her hair behind her ears and cupping her face.“It’s alright.”

 

“Gendry,” she gasps, folding her fingers against his where they rest on her cheeks.“You’re here.”

 

“Yes, I’m right here.It’s alright.”She presses her forehead against his so firmly it nearly hurts.She’s trembling; can’t bear the thought of even an inch of space between them.She gasps, her throat dry, eyes wet. 

 

She doesn’t want to be alone.She can’t be alone.

 

“I’ll get you some water,” Gendry says, making to pull away.

 

“ _No_ ,” Arya moans, kicking the sweaty sheets away from her legs and launching herself into his space, wrapping her entire body around him with every ounce of will she has.“Stay here,” she gasps, fingers gripping his hair, mouth against his shoulder.“Don’t leave me.”

 

Gendry’s shock stills his body.He wraps impossibly strong arms around her back and pulls her close.“I won’t,” he says, lips against her temple.“I could never leave you again.”

 

He holds her close as the moon filters changing shadows through the open window and across the floor.He traces careful fingers up her spine.Arya’s breathing relaxes after some time, but her arms stay rigid.Her fingers are sore from holding onto him too tightly, but she refuses to let go.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”She feels infinitely small.She shakes her head.“Okay,” he says, kissing her temple. 

 

She trusts him.So much so that she doesn’t so much as blink as he scoops her up under her knees and deposits her back on the bed, climbing in after her.“It this okay?”He pulls the sheets up around their shoulders, noses barely touching.

 

She nods, unable to look away from his too blue eyes, afraid that if she does he’ll be gone forever. 

 

He was right, before.She is afraid.She’s afraid of him.Of letting him in.Of letting him go.She’s been alone for so long she doesn’t know what to do with the idea of somebody _wanting_ her.

 

“I don’t want to be alone,” she admits, forcing ever-further into his space.

 

“I’m here,” he says, reaching for her hand where it’s curled under her chin. 

 

“I’m so tired of being alone.”

 

“You never have to be.As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”

 

_None of it would be worth anything if you’re not with me._

 

_I’m mad at you.And I’m hurt._

 

“I hurt you.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“You’re mad at me,” she says.She sits up, crossing at the knees.His eyes are too earnest, too sincere.

 

“You’re reckless,” he says, matching her pose.“You scare the life out of me every time I lose sight of you.You keep trying to run away from the people who love you.”He tucks some hair behind her ear.“I’m afraid you’ll disappear before my very eyes and never return.”

 

“I’m tired of running,” she says. 

 

“So rest.”

 

He bumps his nose against hers, suddenly impossibly close again.Arya can’t breathe.Gendry is the air.

 

She kisses him. 

 

She climbs into his lap and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.“Arya,” he breathes against her lips, and she kisses him.

 

“Ask me to stay.” 

 

Her eyes are closed.She can’t look at him, terrified he won’t do it.Terrified, despite all of his pretty words, that he’ll disappear. 

 

It would seem they’re both afraid of the same thing.Still-

 

“Please stay.”

 

She kisses him.

 

“Ask me to be with you.”

 

Her lips brush against his as she speaks.She can feel his breath against her face.He traces his hands down her shoulders and spine. 

 

“Please, Arya.Be with me.”

 

She kisses him.She shudders.She kisses him again.

 

“Ask me to marry you.”

 

He freezes underneath her and for one heart-stopping second, she thinks this is it. He’s changed his mind.Between one breath and the next, he doesn’t want her anymore. 

 

Instead, he pulls away and pushes his calloused fingers under her chin, thumb stroking her bottom lip.Arya’s eyes blink open, meeting the clearest blue she’s ever seen.She can’t look away.

 

“Be my family.” 

 

This time, when she kisses him, she’s smiling so big their teeth clack together.“Yes,” she says, breathless.

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Yes,” she says, smiling and laughing and nodding and kissing him all at once.She doesn’t ever want her lips to be away from his. 

 

She doesn’t want to be alone.She wants to be with him.

 

 

 


End file.
